


As the Sun in the East

by LuciferxDamien



Category: Sengoku Jidai | Sengoku Period RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Coming from anal play and then being fucked, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Nanshoku Tradition, Overstimulation, Post-Battle, Sex - used until limp and exhausted, Victory Sex, Washing Off The Blood Of Your Enemies In A Sexy Way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:28:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23970850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuciferxDamien/pseuds/LuciferxDamien
Summary: Oda brings back another victory, and Ranmaru is there to greet him with body and soul.
Relationships: Mori Ranmaru/Oda Nobunaga
Comments: 3
Kudos: 37
Collections: Id Pro Quo 2020





	As the Sun in the East

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Laylah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/gifts).



Battle… 

It was a time of movement, men screaming, hustling as spears and swords clashed on armour, the screaming of horses. It was chaos, and at the centre of it all was _him_. A beast of a man, wild and powerful. He was so enigmatic, energetic, magnetic. 

Oda was never one to rest, always setting his sights ahead, to the next battle, the next campaign and now… Now his empire had grown. 

It was an honour to be at his side, Ranmaru knew that, young as he still was. 

Though, at times, it was rather terrifying, watching Oda come back from the heat of battle, sweat sticking to his body as he took his armour off in pieces, pulling at the himo, letting it fall for other young boys to pick up and clean. Ranmaru had been one of those boys, once. Now he was older, though, he was still filled with the same amount of awe and fear. The fear had never overshadowed his eagerness to meet his Lord’s expectations, to exceed them, however. 

He followed his Master into the tent, looking over his shoulder as the younger boys scrambled after their Lord, trying to do a good job, to please him. Ranmaru gave a polite, albeit cold smile, pulling the tent closed behind himself, leaving the boys to look on in shock. One day they would understand. 

He stood at the basin, cold, clear water prepared already, waiting for Ranmaru. He lamented at the state of the tatami matts, Oda still in his grieves, tracking blood and mud into their tent. These were the thoughts of a loyal page, a young boy that would be expected to clean up such a mess, but that was not Ranmaru’s place any longer. His place was to take the sweat-drenched silks from his Lord’s body, to wet the cloth and wipe away the battlefield from his skin. 

Oda peeled himself from his thick battle robes, letting them hang at his waist, standing there as Ranmaru was allowed to draw the cool cloth over his body. He groaned and Ranmaru felt his cheeks flushing, doing it again, just to excite a response from his Lord. It was intoxicating, Ranmaru feeling his blood rushing to the juncture of his thighs. 

He turned away, drawing in a careful breath as he rinsed the cloth, wetting it anew. 

Ranmaru was on his knees, pulling the grieves free, wiping his Lord’s legs free of the mud, the blood that clung to him. Oda looked down at him, eyes glazed over and Ranmaru found the air caught in his breast. He was so magnificent, alluring, only his chest and legs bared, everything else clinging to his waist. 

Though he may never admit it, Ranmaru enjoyed washing his Lord after a battle, to feel the heat of his skin, to document the new wounds he would find. To touch his Master in so intimate a way… To bring Oda comfort and be of use to him… 

It was a joy beyond explanation. 

“Rise…” Oda commanded and Ranmaru felt his heart thudding hard in his chest as he took himself from his knees, rinsing his hands and setting away the dirtied cloths. 

Oda came at him like a storm, rushing up to him, his indigo-dyed under things sticking to his body. Ranmaru could only freeze as he was seized and kissed. It was oftentimes like this, a rush, a swirling commanding force and Ranmaru found himself on his back, on the ground covered with thin matts of tatami, though they were no doubt thoroughly ruined as Oda stomped in with his mud and blood covered self. 

Always in the thick of it, never one to merely watch, no… Oda was a great warrior. 

Any that dared to stand in his way were pushed back, set ablaze. It was foolish to defy him, and yet… 

The battles had continued, despite the greatness that Oda brought to the lands, the way he broke the old ways, the way he fought for unity, _tenka fubu_. 

Ranmaru groaned, letting his Master kiss him, bite at his neck as his clothing was pulled away. It was futile to stop him, and never did Ranmaru ever wish to. Refusing his Lord would have meant suicide, and that would have been a pointless end to his life, wouldn’t it? 

Oda was a great man, a passionate lover. Ranmaru carded his fingers through Oda’s hair, breaking apart clumps of blood and mud, none of the blood was his own, of course. They kissed again, this time it was rougher, more nipping, more teeth and Ranmaru tasted metallic, giving a sharp whine as he was bitten hard enough to draw blood. 

Oda pulled back with a grin, licking his lips. No words needed to be said, not when a man such as Oda was hovering above oneself. Ranmaru took what was given to him, gladly accepting whatever it was his Lord wished of him, whether that be a night of strict punishment, or days of lazy lovemaking. 

After battles, though… 

That was always a time of rough passion, biting, clawing and Ranmaru grinned, sitting up as Oda pulled back onto his haunches. 

“You were magnificent, my Lord,” Ranmaru praised him, flattering him as they both sat on the worn tatami. Ranmaru took one of Oda’s hands kissing the tips of his fingers, working his way up until he was at the wrist, feeling his blood pumping hot and fast there, pulsating, beating with a lifeforce that was beyond anyone else’s that existed. 

Ranmaru nipped there, pulling at the flesh with his teeth, though it was not hard enough to break the skin. Oda gave him a groan, appreciating when Ranmaru was forward with him. Theirs was a life of pretense and protocols. Traditions that were meant to be upheld, though, Oda was doing his best to alter those things, to destroy the old ways that hindered progress. There was no value in ancient traditions that got in Oda’s way. He would break down old loyalties, Oda would raze the old ways, and, in their place, he would build magnificent, towering castles. 

Ranmaru hoped they might return to Azuchi Castle soon, to their newly completed home. The castle had scarcely been finished before they had to leave again, to deal with Ishiyama Honganji once and for all. A vicious cycle of comfort and campaign, but one that Ranmaru knew was necessary, and he would follow his Lord, no matter where Oda’s path would take him. 

But for this night, none of that mattered. He just grinned, kissing Oda, kissing him hard and rough, enjoying the feel of strong fingers pressing into his back, holding him up, urging him closer as they sat together on their knees. Such strong hands, such strength he held in his body. 

Oda was not a large man, not overly muscled and he was often underestimated, but that was always to the enemy’s disadvantage and Ranmaru grinned, grinding his body against Oda’s feeling his warmth, feeling his rigid cock still hidden away beneath protective layers, hard and pulsing. 

Ranmaru found himself on his back once more, grinning, dazed as he brushed the hair from his own eyes. That mouth nipped from his neck to his chin, then down the length of his body. Ranmaru’s clothing was barely left on, hanging from his shoulders and the crooks of his elbows. 

Ranmaru sat up on his elbows, letting Oda explore his body, panting softly as he was kissed and touched, the feeling of those strong, callused hands sending sparks through his entire being. He let his head fall back, groaning as Oda pressed on his abdomen with the heel of his palm, grinding down, teasing lower and lower down his body until that strong hand was kneading into Ranmaru’s still clothed cock. 

“P-please!” He was young, impatient for lust and Ranmaru wasn’t above begging, and he certainly wasn’t above thrusting his hips to get more friction on his cock, grinding against Oda’s hand watching the way his Lord smirked at him, looking at him, marveling at him as Ranmaru felt his cheeks growing ever hotter, want and need pooling low in Ranmaru’s belly. There was a spark there, and then Oda was teasing him again, pulling his hand away, going back to massaging over Ranmaru’s abdomen. 

It was maddening, the way that Oda could play with his body, how he could have even this much patience and control while full of battle lust. Oda was restraint, patience and Ranmaru knew he lacked those traits, eager for touch, eager to please his Lord. 

Ranmaru could clearly see Oda’s trapped cock, even in the dim light of the flickering lamps, it was there, buried under dark indigo dyed silk underthings, erect, straining, and— 

Breath caught in his throat, Ranmaru’s thoughts broke away, collapsing onto his back as he felt a rushing of heat through his body, a spill ripping from him before he even knew what to do. He had barely been touched and here he was, shaking and trembling with his release, release he knew he had not earned. His cheeks were hot, breath coming out in desperate pants. 

“I did not realize you were so close…” Oda whispered to him with an amused chuckle and Ranmaru felt tears of embarrassment stinging the corners of his eyes. He still felt so young, so inexperienced, even as Oda had bedded him for years. 

“I-I’m sorry, p-please forgive me, Sir!” Ranmaru brought his hands up to cover his face, everything feeling hot and Oda allowed Ranmaru his moment of self-pity and privacy. He felt foolish, spilling so quickly, unable to even warn his Lord! 

“It is no matter, young one… I know I can rip more pleasure from your body. You have merely given me what I wish, after all,” Oda said with a grin, Ranmaru just knew it from the tone of his voice, though he dared not to uncover his eyes just yet. “I will have you writhe for me, against me, _around_ me…” 

Ranmaru drew in a shaky breath, feeling rough hands on his under things, pulling at the clothing caught at his waist, tugging hard enough to leave red welted marks on his skin for hours. He gasped, digging his fingernails into his scalp as he was bared, his knees knocked apart, rough fingertips digging into his thighs as his legs were opened further, almost to the point of pain, but Ranmaru allowed it, because it is what his Master desired of him. 

Oil was taken from somewhere, perhaps from the phial that Oda kept on his person at all time, perhaps from one of the many containers left about the tent. It didn’t much matter as Ranmaru felt a slick, oiled hand on his softened cock. He was young, however, and Oda liked to remind him of that, his cock would be hard in minutes after a spill. 

Oiled fingers moved from his cock down to his sac, hanging heavily at the juncture of his thighs, and then… 

Ranmaru’s breath hitched, as it always did. It was such a strange feeling, to have Oda’s fingers circling around the tight ring of muscle, prodding gently, and then his body would just open up all on its own after it was satisfied that there was sufficient oil. Oda was very good at manipulating his body, caressing him with gentle strokes until Ranmaru was relaxed and waiting for more, often begging for more. 

He let his hands fall away from his face, digging his nails into the old and worn tatami, sitting up slightly again just to watch his Lord’s fingers working him open as best as he could. It fascinated him to watch his own body reacting to Oda’s touch. The way his own cock would twitch, still stained with seed from his sudden spill, the way that Oda’s fingers would disappear into his body, the slight burning he felt as he was breached, stretched open. 

Oda twisted his hand and Ranmaru’s eyes opened wide, three fingers inside of him already and he was gasping, stuttering, tears stinging at the corners of his eyes as he was pleasured. Oda twisted his fingers again and Ranmaru bit down into his lip hard enough to taste metallic. If he spilled from just fingers, Ranmaru was certain he’d die of embarrassment, his body far too eager for this. 

Though, when had his Lord not thoroughly used his body? Making him sing with pleasure, begging, pleading, crying out until he was debauched, from mouth or fingers, and then… 

And only then would he be filled with cock, Oda possessing him, taking him until he whimpered out the last of his spill. 

This night would be no different, Ranmaru’s toes curling, his hole clenching despite wanting to relax. His body surged, his cock straining and dripping pre-seed as the foreskin pulled back to reveal the blushing head. It was too late to stop himself, he could only grasp onto his own discarded clothing as Oda concentrated his fingers against that inner hardness, that spot that drove Ranmaru to soft cries and desperate panting. 

“P-please!” He would beg if he had to, he would spill all the same, even if Oda did not give him permission. And, perhaps, Oda would punish him so sweetly for his transgression, using the hilt of his word to penetrate him, as he had once before. That had been a delightfully long night… 

Oda grabbed Ranmaru by the hair, his waxed locks loose from sweat and rough touches. Another kiss, a hard press of lips that broke away as Ranmaru’s lips parted in a gasp, his body humming, buzzing. He tried to keep the pleasure at bay, but with his Lord kissing him so deeply, with so much intensity, Ranmaru could not keep himself from clinging to Oda. He dug his nails in as his hole tightened further, Oda gasping into his mouth and Ranmaru could hold back no more, spilling over his belly, staining himself and his Lord. 

Ranmaru fell back onto the tatami, dazed, breathing, perhaps even whimpering. Fingers were still inside of him, barely moving, but that was enough to make Ranmaru shudder, overwhelmed, overstimulated. 

Oda hummed at him, pleased as he caressed one of Ranmaru’s knees with his free hand. “You sing your lusts so prettily as you writhe, and just for my fingers…” Oda whispered to him, but he was not angered, amused and delighted to see Ranmaru so willing and open to his desires. “How many of those do you think I could steal from you…? 

Ranmaru shook, his eyes rolling back as another wave washed through him, more seed shooting from his cock. “L-Lord…” 

“Hush, young one…” Oda whispered, his voice even and composed, but Ranmaru could see the flush of his cheeks. 

Ranmaru was desperate for more, even as he still fought for breath, and Oda appeared to be losing his composure as well, Ranmaru clenching around his fingers was enough to make his Master moan. Shaky, he raised himself up, pulling Oda in for another kiss, a languid slide of tongues and gasps. Already his cock tried to stir to hardness, grinding against Oda to get friction on his neglected flesh. 

Ranmaru was pushed down again, the kiss turning rough as Oda took his fingers from Ranmaru’s clenching heat. The kiss broke as Oda pulled himself free of his layers, slicking his cock with messy, uneven strokes that thumped into Ranmaru’s thigh with each stroke. Oda’s hair was messy and wild, framing his face like a magnificent mane and Ranmaru licked his lips in anticipation. 

They kissed again, hurried and frantic, the feeling overwhelming, Ranmaru running his fingers through his Master’s hair, holding on and desperate. Ranmaru’s eyes glazed over as he felt a bluntness pressing at his hole. He arched, hissing through against rough lips as he was penetrated, Oda pushing his cock in, the large head always catching on the ring of his muscle. Oda pulled back and Ranmaru keened, forcing his body to relax as Oda pushed against him again with renewed force, and then, _then_ they were both groaning as Oda sunk in hard and fast, all the way to the root. 

Ranmaru trembled, digging his nails into Oda’s bare shoulders. He was folded in half as Oda trembled atop him, sweat breaking down his brow, eyes clenched shut. Their pleasure would not take its time in washing over them both, that much Ranmaru could be sure of. 

Oda moved, braced on his arms that caged around Ranmaru’s head. Ranmaru’s cock leaked pre-seed, his body burning from the intrusion, his thighs shaking as he fought to control himself, to stave off the ever-present urge to spill as soon as he was penetrated. Oda’s slow movements helped him to bridle his lusts, sneaking a hand between them to grasp his cock at the base, to ease off the ache as he gave a shaky moan. 

A breathy laugh broke Ranmaru from his concentration, Oda looking at him with fondness; he did so enjoy that Ranmaru would stroke himself during their couplings, engaged in the act just as much as his Lord was, not merely enduring it for the sake of his Master. 

Another kiss, slow, almost chaste as Oda pulled back, slow, pushing in steadily, but it was not a pace that would remain. Ranmaru grew impatient, needy as he bucked up against his Lord with breathy gasps and soon Oda was thrusting much harder, much faster. 

Ranmaru keened and clawed, arching back as the hard cock inside of himself drove against that inner place that always had him trembling. It was too much, and he was still buzzed from his earlier spills, still thrumming from the battle and battle lust. A knot was warm and low in his belly, his sac drawing up tight, Ranmaru stroking his cock in time with each of Oda’s strokes. Pleasure coursed through him with each of Oda’s thrusts, that inner hardness struck with each stroke, forcing an indelicate cry from Ranmaru each time. 

The other pages would hear his cries, the men in the camp no doubt knew just what their Lord was doing. Such a perverse thought and Ranmaru bit down on his lip as everything slipped, the knot breaking, unable to take anymore. Ranmaru arched, spilling again, his body shuddering, clenching around the thick, oiled cock deep inside as Oda continued to thrust, and if the stuttering of his hips were any indication, it would not be long for his Master, either. 

Seed cooled in Ranmaru’s hand and he looked up at his Lord, watching as his brow knit, as he tried to keep himself from spilling just yet, to stave off the moment for seconds more. A man of great power and control, Ranmaru was always left in awe, each time he was taken. 

Overwhelmed, overstimulated, Ranmaru clenched down, worried he might pass out before serving his Lord fully. He undulated around Oda’s cock even as his hole was sore and used, anything to help his Master over the edge into completion. More seed leaked from Ranmaru’s softened flesh, his breath catching in his breast as if he would be pushed over the edge once more, toes curled. 

Oda’s hips stuttered, a sign he was not far off. Ranmaru gasped, reaching up, his trembling fingers catching in Oda’s hair and pulling him down for a messy, uncoordinated kiss. Hurried, rough, Oda dominated the kiss before wrenching away, shouting out his pleasure while Ranmaru was at the edge of consciousness, feeling warmth seeping from his overstretched hole. 

Oda collapsed atop him, hot and sweaty and Ranmaru knew it was in bad form to pass out beneath his Master, but there was little else he could do, hot and rushing with pleasure, his eyes refusing to stay open. 

~ ~ ~ 

There were more wars on the horizon, there was always trouble brewing. It was becoming more and more known that Oda had a disdain for the Emperor and his family. 

It worried Ranmaru more than he would ever admit. It was not his place to question his Lord, after all. But, to ignore the worry that bubbled up in his mind would have been just as foolish, if not more foolish, than denying that it existed at all in the first place. 

One would call a man that whispered snide remarks of Nippon’s prince’s as arrogant, and perhaps Oda was just that but… 

He was so much more, as well. He was skilled and diplomatic. Ranmaru smiled, sitting up as he drew the bedding over his Master, letting his fingers linger on old scars, new wounds. His body was a map of his trials, a map of all his battles and all that he had fought for. Ranmaru could only smile as he looked over Oda’s body, looking down at his sleeping face, the softness that was there only rarely, for Oda was not one to sleep too deeply. That carried too much risk, but tonight, after a hard battle, there was peace. 

Ranmaru bent himself down, planting a chaste kiss to Oda’s rough lips. “ _You are my lord always_ ,” he whispered, intent on pulling himself from the bedding, so that he might sit up and be able to attend Oda, but a strong hand was around his wrist, pulling him back down. 

It was not traditional, it flaunted all the rules of their society, but Ranmaru accepted it, putting aside his role as page and servant, so that he might enjoy the warmth of Oda’s body, giving comfort to his Master. 


End file.
